


Chained to sorrow

by LadyIrina



Series: The Mandalorian, his son and the Storm Trooper [11]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Abusive Parents, Bullying, Character Study, Found Family, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Esteem Issues, Stormtrooper Culture, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:35:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25538143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyIrina/pseuds/LadyIrina
Summary: A large part of Corin's past and what made him the mess he is today...
Series: The Mandalorian, his son and the Storm Trooper [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1560925
Comments: 105
Kudos: 346





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, buckle up and brace yourselves. Please believe me when I say this is painful.  
> It's not graphic in anything but grief, but there is a lot of grief.  
> And Corin's family is the worst.

When Corin's mother dies, he's too young to understand. One day she's there, the next she's not. He hears the grown ups use words that makes no sense to him and no one explains it to him. It is all very confusing and scary.  
He celebrates his third birthday with his mother's maid, Ucha. (He doesn't know where his father is, but that is normal.) She tells him his mother is gone, but she doesn't tell him where.

For a very long time, Corin thinks she traveled elsewhere and didn't bring him with her because she didn't love him anymore. His only source of stability and comfort is Ucha. She doesn't love him, keeps him at an arm's distance, but she's always there and she's always the same.  
Until she leaves as well. Six months after his mother went away.

A row of nannies follow. They stay with him for everything from two days to nine months. Some are nice, some... are not. Corin learns to be quiet and do as he's told.

At first Corin cries bitter tears over each and every soul that leaves him, but he doesn't give up. Maybe if he is better, if he's a good boy, one of them will grow fond of him and stay?  
He greets every new arrival with a careful hope in his heart and quickly sets about trying to find out what they would like him to be. If he can be just that, they will stay. Right?  
They teach him to speak properly, stand properly and act properly, but they never stay.

Neleem, a soft spoken and gentle Togruta, is the one who stays the longest. She treats him nice, smiles at him, draws her fingers gently through his hair, and he hears her crying the night before she leaves. Corin wonders what he did wrong so she had to go away...

He's lonely. They don't really let him out of the mansion much, claims it is too dangerous, and there aren't any other children here for him to play with.

Corin celebrates his fourth birthday with a sour faced woman that enjoys pinching him when he doesn't obey fast enough. He celebrates his fifth birthday alone after he learns that his mother is dead and won't be coming back, ever.  
On the day Corin turns six years old, his father shows up. It is the first time Corin has seen his father on his birthday and this is the best present ever. His joy only diminishes a little when Macero makes it clear he's not there to celebrate anything, but it flares back up when he's told that his father is there to bring him with him.

“I'm going to make a man out of you.” Macero says, marching towards the ship waiting for them outside the mansion.

Clutching his bag, Corin nods eagerly and tries to keep up with his father's pace. He's not going to mess this up. He's going to make his father proud. He's going to become worthy of his love.  
Whatever it takes. He's not going to fail.

They travel for almost two weeks. Corin wants to talk to his father, wants to ask him all kinds of questions, but the expression on his father's face is stern and foreboding and Corin remembers his lessons well. Be quiet, go unnoticed, don't speak unless you are spoken to. He stays silent.  
Which turns out to be a good decision. His father wants him to listen, to obey, not talk.

At first the physical training is exhausting. On the fourth day after their arrival at where Macero is now stationed, Corin collapses in the training room and can't get up. He tries, but fails.

“Get up.” Macero orders.

“I... I can't...” Corin's entire body is shaking and he's scared. He wants to obey, he does, he wants to make his father proud, but he has no more strength left. “Father, please...”

“Get up.” Macero repeats in a growl, clearly angry. “Don't be a weakling.”

Cringing, Corin makes another attempt to push himself up, but his arms just gives in. Ashamed, he stares at the floor. “I'm sorry...” Hot tears spill from his eyes. “Please...”

His father's big hand suddenly grabs a hold of Corin's jaw, startling him into silence and to stare wide eyed up at Macero's furious face hovering over him.

“Stop your sniveling, Corin. Right now. I don't want to see it. You hear me?” His voice is hard with barely restrained rage. “No son of mine will be simpering like a little girl. So stop it or I will really give you something to cry about!”

Stunned, Corin blinks a couple of times, terrified. The tears stop.

“I don't ever want to see you cry again. Understand?” Macero orders him, staring into Corin's eyes.

Corin manages a faint nod, too scared to do anything else.  
He doesn't cry again.

-

Uncle Vecon is nice.  
Corin doesn't have too many memories of him, but on the ships that his father brings him to and on some of the army bases they stay at, he gets to meet his uncle more often.  
Where Corin's father is always stern and focused, Vecon actually smiles and even jokes occasionally, daring to wink at Corin behind his brother's back.  
One time Corin hurts his ankle during training, uncle Vecon gives him a piggyback ride.

The only scary thing about uncle Vecon are the days when he's not nice.

At first Corin thinks the nice version of uncle Vecon is the only version of uncle Vecon there is, but he's wrong. Just because uncle Vecon is in a good mood one day, it most definitely does not mean he will be the next time Corin sees him and that is when he is as scary as Corin's father.  
So while Corin is glad to see his uncle, there is a tension in his belly until he can carefully find out what kind of mood Vecon is in that day and adjust his own behavior accordingly.

It is one of the bad days when Corin stares out the transparisteel and sees children running around and creating figures of the snow covering the planet they are on. He hears his uncle step up behind him.  
“What are they doing, uncle Vecon?” That doesn't look like any kind of training he has been through.

“Wasting time.” Vecon mutters. “Now, come on. It's time for your studies.”

Corin continues to stare until his uncle slaps him over the head and snaps him back to reality.

He doesn't celebrate his seventh birthday. Or his eight. Or any of the following.  
There is no time. Corin isn't improving fast enough. He's not strong enough. So Macero keeps adding more exercises to his training program.

In addition to the physical activities, he also makes sure his son reads and learns all there is on military tactics and history.  
Corin finds those books awfully boring, but they are the only distraction he has between training sessions. (His father doesn't want him mixing with others so Corin is mostly by himself.)

When uncle Vecon smuggles a book to him with stories, amazing stories about great adventures far away, Corin loves his uncle so much that he doesn't even mind Vecon forgetting to bring him water for his training, too busy flirting with some lady. It's fine. Corin can handle it. Those heroes in that book would have handled it without a problem. And maybe uncle Vecon will get him another book if he does?

Macero is furious when the medics insist on giving Corin fluids after he collapses, shouting at uncle Vecon at such a volume that the entire base can probably hear it.  
“What if he had died? I would have had nothing to use and the Mottis would have been free to ignore us! Is that what you want?”

Corin tries to apologize to uncle Vecon the next time he sees him, but he doesn't want to hear it and dismisses Corin with an angry snarl. Corin feels like crying, but he doesn't.

When the base arranges a lighthearted competition between soldiers, they also add children for fun. And when Corin wins, it is the first time he sees his father close to proud. He stands next to Corin with an almost-smile on his face, nodding to the grumbling parents congratulating him on the win.  
Corin clings to this memory the next time there is such a contest, when Corin comes in second and his father doesn't speak to him for an entire week.

His father's lessons are harsh, but fair.

Corin is nine years old when he makes the mistake of leaving his one toy, a fake blaster that he'd found on the base, on the floor as he runs off to look if the ship landing is uncle Vecon.  
It isn't. And when Corin returns, Macero is standing there, holding the toy, studying it with obvious distaste for the old and battered thing. “If you don't look after your equipment, boy, you're going to lose it.”

Swallowing hard, Corin cowers slightly. “I'm sorry. I w-won't do it again.”

“No, you won't. Because you just lost it.” Macero turns around and walks out of the room.

The toy is never seen again.  
But Corin knows it was his own fault. He shouldn't have just left it there. He should have taken better care of it. If you don't look after your things, you lose them. It's what you deserve.

Corin sits down on the floor and forces the sadness away. His own fault.

Lesson learned.

-

Corin is thirteen when he falls and lands at an awkward angle during training and he feels something snap inside him. Pain quickly follows. A lot of pain. Especially if he tries to use his arm.

“Get up.” Macero orders. “Time is ticking.”

Corin tries, gets his feet under him, but his arm feels like a dead-weight and he gently clutches his shoulder with his uninjured hand. “It hurts...”

Macero frowns, walks over and examines him with efficient and harsh moves.

Corin has to bite his lip so hard it bleeds to keep from screaming. No crying allowed and no screaming.

“It's just your collarbone.” Macero concludes, stepping back. “It's just pain. Nothing serious. That won't kill you. Finish your mission, boy.”

Breathing hard, the pain pulsating and radiating down his arm, Corin makes a final appeal to his father. “But it really hurts...”

“Stop whining. Stop being such a weakling. You are an embarrassment to the family. Finish your mission. Now!”

Cringing under the shouted words, Corin nods, avoids looking at his father as he doesn't want to see just how angry he is, and he forces himself to keep going.

There are moments when spots of white dances in front of his eyes and Corin knows he's about to pass out, but he pushes through it. Sweats runs into his eyes, but he can't wipe it away as one hand is useless and the other is busy clutching his burning shoulder. Corin keeps pushing through the agony and he actually manages to complete the task his father had given him.  
Swaying on his feet, shivering with pain, Corin glances up when his father joins him and feels a jolt of happiness at seeing Macero smile.

“See? I told you you could do it.” His father says, pleased. “Pain is just pain. You're fine.”

“Yeah...” Corin manages a smile. “I'm fine.” It _is_ just pain and he did manage to push through it. His father is right. As always.

“Pain lets you know when something is wrong, but it can also be a distraction.” Macero says. “You have to learn how to control the pain, don't let it control you.”

Corin nods. He understands.

Lesson learned.

Corin's life is physical training, reading and learning military strategies, and doing his very best to obey his father's every order. It's not often Macero hands out praise or kind words, but when he does; it's all worth it. It gives Corin hope that maybe one day he can be a son his father can be proud of.

Corin is sixteen when Macero informs him they are going to a family gathering.  
His father and uncle Vecon being the only family Corin knows, he's both anxious and curious. He knows his mother was a Motti, a family of wealth and serious influence, but he's never met any of them. They have never shown any interest in him.

When they enter the grand hall in the Motti Mansion a week later in Seswenna, joining the crowd of rich and powerful with their bright and large clothing, Corin quickly becomes bored and realizes these people still don't have any interest in him.  
Or his father.

A brown haired, blue eyed man sends them a superior and uninterested glance when the introductions are made.

“Macero and Corin Valentis.” Some person says with a smile that is all show and no real feeling. “Conan Antonio Motti.”

“A pleasure, I'm sure.” Conan drawls with a tight, insincere smile. “If you'll excuse me...”  
He walks over to a very tall, thin woman with dark hair streaked with gray and he at least appears pleased to see her. She gives him a light pat on his cheek and coos something at him.

Corin glances up at his father and feels a knot of anxiousness in his belly. His father is furious. He's often angry, but this is the first time Corin has seen genuine hatred in his eyes.

“They think they are better than us?” Macero growls. “We'll prove them wrong, Corin. You will surpass them in every way that matters. You will shatter their arrogance and make sure they never forget the Valentis name.”

Corin swallows hard, feeling the weight of his father's anger and how much he doesn't want this.

“I pulled some strings. They are letting you into the Academy early. You start in three days.” Macero informs him, then walks away.

-

The Academy is everything Corin feared it would be.

Ambitious and ruthless people filled with aggression and a hunger for blood. A lot of them are from the lower classes and have been forced to fight their way to where they are now. A lot of them carry a deep seething resentment for anyone who has been handed things to them.  
Someone like Corin.

It doesn't take long before his Valentis name and Motti connection are common knowledge and the remarks begin.

Corin tries to keep to himself, stay out of trouble, knowing this kind of fighting is not why his father sent him there. He has bigger plans for Corin and he won't like it if something gets in the way of those plans, like reprimands for bad behavior.

Ignoring the verbal barbs and the exclusion from all things social, Corin merely keeps his focus on getting through these three years. He has to graduate. His father will never forgive him if he doesn't. Even uncle Vecon tells him so.

“If you don't make it, Corin, you might as well put a blaster in your mouth and pull the trigger.” Vecon sighs as the two walk towards where Corin's squad are set to train that day.

Corin wraps his arms around himself and nods. “I know.”

It doesn't take too long before the verbal hits turn into actual physical blows. The first shoulders bumping into Corin in the hallway, he ignores. But it gets worse. And worse. He's never safe.

Finally he's backed into a corner and they give him no choice.

When Corin walks out of the room, there are seven people on the ground groaning with pain, and he doesn't look back. He's too scared. If his father finds out about this...

Macero doesn't find out, but their squad trainer does.  
Corin stares at the floor when Nivida stands before him and tells him he's being transferred. He goes to his room, packs his few things and follows orders.

-

A part of Corin is relieved that he won't be sharing quarters with the others anymore, but a bigger part of him is terrified of what awaits him behind this door. His grip on his one bag of possessions is so tight he can't feel his fingers anymore.  
Corin takes a deep breath, tries to ignore his racing heart, reaches up and knocks on the door.

It can't get much worse than he's already been through, can it?

The door opens with a whoosh, revealing a scruffy man in his thirties, with blue eyes and dark brown hair.

Corin opens his mouth to introduce himself.

Hands suddenly cups Corin's face and the man lets out this little gasp, then shouts; “Hey, guys. Our baby is here. And he is so cute!” He drags Corin in by the face, squishes it a little as he shows him to the other Troopers in there. “Look at this! Look!”

Too shocked to object and stumbling to regain his balance, Corin notes that the tiny room has two bunk beds on either side of it and there is a Trooper that is staring at him in each of the lower bunks.

“He is cute.” The man on the right agrees, lowering the book he had been reading, and grins. He too has dark hair and bright eyes, but appears a little older than the face-grabber.

The last Trooper has his hands behind his neck, one ankle crossed over the other, clearly in the middle of a nap judging by the tired look on his face. His eyes are as dark as his hair and he does not appear pleased. “Stop groping him, you idiot. You're scaring the kid.”

The one holding on to Corin's face turns it to look at him again and he gives a big, contagious grin. “But he's so cute! I just want to eat him alive. Look at that little face.”

Corin stares wide eyed at the man, wondering if he's hallucinating or if this is some kind of prank. People did love to make snide remarks about his looks, his skills, remarks that Corin usually ignores, but it is a lot harder when the person has a good grip on your face.

The Trooper with the book puts it down and gets up from the bunk with a faint laugh. “He's got a point. Let the poor boy go.” 

Whining, the face-grabber lets go and the other man approaches them.

“I'm Dee.” The one who had been reading the book says, placing a hand to his own chest as if Corin needed the extra hint as to whom he was referring to. “The welcome crew is Drop.” He gestures to the face-grabber, who gives a little wave, then towards the last one still in the bunk. “And the lazy bum who won't get up to greet people, that's Pat.”

The solemn looking Trooper gives a nod.

“I, uh,” Corin looks from one to the other, not quite confident his face won't get grabbed again, “I'm Corin Valentis.”

“Yeah, we've been waiting for you.” Dee nods towards the bunk on the left. “The one above Pat is free. Settle in, kid.”

While Corin cautiously shuffles towards the bed, Drop turns his focus to Dee. “By the way, could you borrow me some credits? I'm taking Ni'ella out and-”

“Not a chance. You still owe me from the three previous dates.” Dee replies, crawling back into his bed and picking up his book to start reading again.

Drop turns his gaze over at Pat.

“Forget it.” Pat states, leaving no room for any pleas.

Drop's shoulders sink, then he lights up and looks over at Corin.

“No!” Dee and Pat both declare without even looking at Drop.

Drop mumbles something probably non-flattering and climbs into his own bunk over Dee to sulk.

Gingerly placing his bag on top of the bed, Corin steals glances at the other three men, more worried than ever what kind of souls they've placed him with. 

-

They leave him alone for a while after that. Corin eventually climbs up and settles on his bunk, a book on military strategy in his hand that he knows his father wants him to read but can't quite muster up the energy to. He should, he knows, but it is so incredibly boring.

The other three talk occasionally between themselves, everyday things and inside jokes, giving Corin the impression of a laid back mood and camaraderie. These guys are friends. Really friends.  
Corin feels a faint stab of... something. It's hard to describe the feeling. He would almost label it as envy, but just the mere thought of trying to reach out to become a part of it and be rejected brings so much unease that he also recoils from it.  
Better to be quiet, unseen, and maybe they will continue to leave him alone? That's all he wants. He picks up his book and tries to read. His father will question him on this, like always, and Corin better know the answers.

“Hey.” Dee's voice eventually snaps Corin out of his thoughts.

Looking up from his book, he sees all three men standing by the door and Corin swallows hard.  
Here it comes.  
“Yeah?” Corin asks.

“I said we're heading for the canteen. It's feeding time. You hungry?” Dee says.

“You gotta be hungry.” Drop shoots in, walking over to grin up at him. “Come on.”

Corin hesitates, scans the words and looks for the hidden barb and the trap of the invite. “I...”

Drop reaches out and lightly slaps Corin's leg repeatedly. “C'mooooon. You gotta eat. Otherwise you're going to end up as grouchy as Pat.” He widens his eyes at Corin in mock horror. “You don't want that, kid. Trust me.”

Pat does not appear amused.

Dee chuckles softly, all calm ease and confidence. He nods for Corin to join them. “Come on, kid.”

Corin hesitates, knowing this is going to end badly and dreading what they got planned, but also realizing that he probably has no choice. They're not going to leave him behind. He forces a faint smile, closes the book and climbs out of bed.  
Better get it over with. That way he can make a hasty retreat back to the room and curl up in bed again and be safe.

They continue to surprise him. When they reach the canteen, Corin expects them to wander off and he has to find a place to sit by himself, as he usually did during meals, but instead Pat takes a light hold of his neck and steers him towards a table that quickly clears of other troopers when Drop sits down and loudly proclaims he, the amazing Drop, has arrived. Pat seats Corin next to himself and the four of them sit together.

Corin prods at the food, glancing around, waiting for the bomb to go off, but nothing happens. The other three continue their benign bickering and lighthearted jokes and none of it is at his expense.  
Eventually Corin's shoulders lowers and he eats. Might as well. Food is fuel.

The next morning, they even walk together to training. Drop is almost sleep-walking, having stayed up way too late again, while Pat berates him and Dee sends Corin an amused grin that has Corin frowning confused.  
Dee is laughing at Drop, not Corin, and with no sign of malice. There is love in that laugh.  
How is that possible?

And the confusion only grows when the other recruits in their training group circle Corin like a pack of curious predators sniffing prey, making him tense up and doing his best to avoid eye-contact, and his three room-mates interject themselves between him and them to make the others back off.

Sweat makes his collar stick to the back of his neck and Corin glances at the broad backs of the men defending him from lazy cruelty and wonders if they are planning to do something even worse to him or if he really could be this lucky?

When it is time to eat again, they ask him to join them again. His hesitation is a little shorter this time.  
He shouldn't hope. He knows better than to hope. But...

Little by little, day by day, Corin begins to hope.

Dee, Drop and Pat continue to treat him like he is one of them. They all call him 'Kid' and he's so grateful for their kindness that he doesn't mind. 

-

It takes five months before Corin dares to ask. By then he knows 'Dee' is because of Dee's name beginning with the letter 'D' and 'Pat' is a shortening of Pat's real name, but the last nickname is a mystery to him.  
Gathering courage for two days, Corin finally pops the question during breakfast one morning in the busy canteen. “Why are you called 'Drop'?”

Dee instantly leans back in his chair with a grin of pure glee. Even Pat smirks. And Drop, to Corin's surprise, looks a bit embarrassed.

“Well, Kid...” Drop clears his throat. “That is a tale of backstabbing and sorrow. A painful memory refused to be left for dead due to cruel, cruel men with a bad sense of humor.”

Tensing up, Corin shakes his head a little. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...”

“Nono.” Drop sighs, throwing a piece of dried meat at Pat. “It is probably time you knew. You're old enough. And it might remind you to never trust these two asshats here.”

Confused, the words saying one thing and yet the light mood still lingering around the table saying something completely different, Corin regrets asking. 

“It was the morning of our being accepted into the Academy.” Drop talks as if he is reciting one of the old tales of the Imperial glory days. “All the recruits were lined up for the recruitment officer's big speech before they were going to load us all on board a ship to bring us to the Academy. As it so happened, I was a little late that day. For... reasons.”

Pat snorts, crossing his arms. “He was banging some poor misguided soul.”

Waving his hand dismissively at Pat, Drop keeps his focus on Corin. “That's... true. But, anyway, once I realized I was late, I of course made a mad run for it. Being cunning and clever, I managed to sneak over to these two jerks and pretend I had been there the entire time.”

“Or so he thought.” Dee remarks, still grinning.

“Or so I thought.” Drop admits. “Two things went wrong that morning. One, I forgot that it was Numean who were doing the speech and that guy didn't miss a thing. Two, well, when he saw me and stalked over to yell, that is when I discovered that in my haste I hadn't fastened my belt and...”

“His pants fell down.” Dee finishes the sentence. “Everyone was focused at this guy with Numean yelling at him for being late and his pants just...” He gestures how resolutely the pants had fallen.

“And when I moved to pull them up, he yelled at me to stand at attention while he was yelling at me for being late.” Drop laughs at the memory. “And Numean just went on and on; 'Did you drop something, soldier?' 'Whatever you drop stays down until I am done talking, soldier' 'It can't be important if you drop it, soldier'.”  
Dee and Pat start laughing as well and Drop takes a moment to throw dried meat at them both and they weakly fend off the attack, before he turns back to Corin. “And _that_ , my angel-faced child, is how I got stuck with the name 'Drop'.”

Slightly shocked, his father would have shot on him the spot if Corin had done something like that, but also impressed and amused at how shamelessly Drop tells the story, Corin can't help a faint laugh. “Maybe 'Kid' isn't so bad now that I think about it?”

Drop gasps, placing a hand to his heart. “He laughs? He jokes? I knew you could do it, Kid! I had faith in you!” He gets up from his chair. “For this sight, this experience, I am willing to drop my pants again.” He starts to fumble at his pants, making Dee and Pat both cry out in horror and shield their eyes.

This time Corin laughs out loud.

He can't remember ever laughing out loud before... It feels nice.

-

Weeks and months pass. Dee, Drop and Pat don't turn on him. Corin has no idea why, but they continue to treat him like he is one of them.

Meeting one of his old squad members, Corin clenches his jaw and stares at the floor while the guy snipes at his Motti connection, his 'pretty face' and rich family. It's just words. They hurt, but it's just words. His father's glare of disdain is a lot worse.  
Corin is not prepared for a dark shadow appearing out of nowhere and decking his former room-mate. He stares wide-eyed at Pat and can only continue to watch in stunned terror as several friends of the downed recruit comes running and Pat moves on to taking them on as well.

When Dee comes running down the hallway, clearly drawn by the ruckus, Corin shakes his head helplessly. “I didn't... I...” But Dee doesn't stop, merely runs right by him and dives into the fight to help Pat. Seconds after that, Drop does the same.

Corin continues to stare, can't understand what he's seeing, can't understand why Pat and the others would enter a fight just because some guy said something. If an officer appears, this could mean reprimands. If his father was informed that Corin had been involved in a fight, he would look at him with that disdain of his again and Corin's body locks up at the mere thought of it.  
He stands there and he stares. 

Until a guy gets behind Pat and aims for a back-attack. That is when Corin doesn't think and just dives into the fight as well. He may not understand why they are fighting, but he won't let anyone hurt his... friends? No matter the cost.

The fight is intense and messy, they all end up with some bruises and aches, but the others run off before any officers appear and Drop is singing loud victory songs as they walk back to their room. Even Pat seem smugly satisfied.

“I'm sorry...” Corin mumbles to Dee walking next to him, behind the other two.

Dee smiles, despite a split lip, and wraps an arm around him to hug him close as they walk. “Don't worry about it, Kid. We're a team. We look after each other. No one messes with our team.”

Corin honestly can't tell which makes him most dizzy with gratitude; the words or the hug.

Clearly noticing Corin's odd reaction, Dee's arm loosens its grip a little and he sends him an awkward look. “Is, uh, is this okay?”

Swallowing down the lump in his throat, Corin nods with a faint smile. “Yeah. It's fine.”

Dee leaves his arm around him. “You did good. That's a mean right hook you got there. Some of those jerks are going to have headaches for days.”

Adding 'pride' to the mixed mess of feelings he's feeling, Corin flushes a little, but has to confess the truth. “I hesitated. I'm sorry.”

“You did fine, Kid.” Dee counters with gentle sincerity. “We're proud to have you on our team.”

Corin doesn't have an answer to that. His throat merely snares up and his eyes burn. It hurts and yet he feels happy?  
They are a team.

Pat shows him his baby daughter on a small holoprojector. Drop takes a deep interest in Corin's love life and starts working on setting him up on dates. Dee continues to be the glue that keeps them all together and Corin's grounding anchor when it feels like the world is trying to suffocate him.

The training is non-stop, but Corin is used to that. It's actually less intense than what he's used to, so he looks at them with a slightly awkward expression when Dee, Pat and Drop collapses after a round of physical exercises that leaves them heaving for air and dripping with sweat while he's ready to do two rounds more.  
He expects them to resent him for this, but they don't. Drop makes one remark about him being able to keep up with Corin if only he was his young age too, which Dee and Pat express severe doubts about, but none of them get angry or try to sabotage him in any way.  
Corin feels guilty for even thinking it.

When they discover it is his birthday, Drop is horrified that Corin has no plans and even Dee and Pat agree that this is unacceptable. Corin hasn't celebrated his birthday since he turned five, his father considers it pointless, and Corin is quite used to spending the day like any other. The day means nothing to him.

It's both awkward and surprisingly nice when he's dragged to a bar where Dee and Drop makes everyone join in on singing him songs and buying him birthday drinks.

It's the first time Corin gets drunk.

Pat has to carry him back to their room. And instead of being angry at Corin, he merely returns Corin's drunken smile with a fond one of his own before telling him to go to sleep.

-

They are sent on survival training and Corin is delighted when it turns out to be on a snow planet.  
While the others huddle together, shivering and miserable, Corin offers to stand guard and even removes his helmet at one point.  
It feels like he can finally breathe.

He's always loved the snow. There were moments when his father had been stationed on the colder planets, when Corin had been as close to happy as he could get. Sure, the training was still hard and his father didn't allow him much time off to explore the lovely cold, but he savored every second.

“You're like a heat blanket!” Drop exclaims after Corin reluctantly lets Dee take over guard duty and joins the other two, only to have Drop try to thaw his hands by showing them under Corin's breastplate. Pat inches closer as well and follows suit.  
The snow isn't cold, but their hands are, even on top of his bodysuit. Yet Corin clenches his jaw and forces himself to endure it, knowing they'll warm up soon enough and he doesn't mind.  
They are a team.

He even goes on the dates Drop and Pat arranges for him, some are awkward and some are nice, but none of them makes him feel like Pat looks when talking to his wife.

Maybe Corin is just unlovable?  
He's a failure at everything else, why not love as well? His constant failure is why his father can never look at him like Pat looks at his daughter.

But his team doesn't care that Corin is a failure.  
And there are moments when he almost forgets he is, because they just keep treating him like he's one of them.

Their laughter doesn't make him tense up anymore. Their invites no longer causes him to hesitate and look for possible traps. Walking down the hallways with them, Corin stops staring at the floor and waiting for something bad to happen.

As time passes, it feels like they have been at the Academy forever and Corin wishes it would keep going on forever.  
It doesn't, of course.

The day comes when they graduate and it is a bittersweet event. It means they can finally start making a difference, it means that Corin can finally achieve some battlefield recognition that will make his father stop being ashamed of him, but he also can't completely ignore the rumors going around that the Rebel Forces are growing stronger and increasingly more dangerous.  
There are whispers of heavy casualties among Storm Troopers...

Achian, the man who had been in charge of their training, sees them off on the last day and grins with badly hidden pride. “Make me proud, men. And boy.”

Corin sighs, forever stuck with his 'Kid' nickname, and wobbles a little as Dee knocks his shoulder against his. “Yes, sir.”

“Roger that.” Drop replies and salutes Achian. The rest follow suit.

Nodding, returning the salute, Achian's expression softens a little. “Be careful out there. I didn't spend ages turning you into decent soldiers just have you perish on me. Affirmative?”

“Affirmative.” Dee replies, reaching out and they actually shake hands. “And thanks. For the Kid.”

Achian shrugs, awkward. “It was merely practical. Now, dismissed. And good luck.”

It's a bit sad to leave the Academy, but Drop's excitement is contagious and Corin decides to look towards the future instead of mourning the past.

They get a new room, an impossibly small and narrow one, but Corin swears those are the exact same bunk beds as back at the Academy.  
Habit makes them choose the same system of sleeping arrangements as before.

Two weeks later, they head out for their first battle mission.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dee, Drop and Pat's fates are revealed...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning; character deaths and they don't die pretty. No really graphic descriptions, but it is not pretty.

Nervous but excited, Corin doesn't hesitate to run out of the dropship, followed by his three team mates and others, aiming for glory and victory.

The fight is brutal, but they all make it through without a scratch. Drop is the last one to join them by the ships, having gotten separated from them during the fire fight, and he runs laughing towards them. When the group hug happens, it feels dangerously natural for Corin to join in.

They made it.

Their first battle and they made it! It feels like they are invincible. They are going to win the war for the Empire, bring peace to the Galaxy and be hailed like heroes.  
A team of heroes.

Dee, Drop and Pat are heroes to Corin, at least.  
They even gang up to sweep Corin away when Macero Valentis makes one of his visits to check up on his progress. Instead of his father's look of disappointment and borderline contempt, Corin gets to spend three days on a snow planet.

They make it through their second battle without a scratch as well, but it feels a little harder to smile about it this time as they are standing next to two Storm Troopers howling with grief over the friends they had lost.

More battles follow and while they somehow manage to dodge physical hurt, it begins to take its toll.

Corin has horrible nightmares filled with loud explosions and blood and he knows he's not the only one. Pat becomes even more serious than before, Drop doesn't smile as much as he used to and Dee's eyes grow distant and sad.

But they are a team, so they look after each other.

After one particularly bad fight, Pat's hands are shaking so bad that he's struggling when they're seated in the canteen at the base. Drop leans over and cuts his food into small pieces for him.  
When Dee can't focus enough to read his favorite book, Corin picks it up and reads for him.  
One evening Drop is badly startled by someone dropping something that causes a loud bang and they hold him and talk to him until he can breathe again.  
Also, when Corin pushes himself so hard in training that he simply collapses, they help him back on his feet and gently persuades him to rest.  
They help each other through it.

They learn to push it all down inside themselves, to ignore the horrors and the fear, realize they have to if they're going to keep from going insane.  
If you pretend you're okay hard enough, you might actually start to believe it one day.

“You're going to be fine,” Drop whispers with a faint smile into Corin's hair, hugging him close after they make it through yet another battle, they have lost count of how many by now, “you are far too pretty to die. Remember that, Kid.”

Exhaling a ghost of a laugh, Corin nods, wrapping his own arms around him. “Roger that.”

The last evening it is the four of them together, they leave the base and go to their favorite dining place. Dee is actually smiling as Drop tries to serenade the waitress with little luck, while Corin turns red with embarrassment and Pat wonders what he'd done wrong to deserve the punishment of having to watch and listen to the debacle.

The next day, they load up on the transport ship and head towards a planet Corin doesn't even remember the name of. It's just another fight. There is no excitement anymore, only tense anxiousness.  
His father would be even more ashamed of him if he knew.

The ship shakes from time to time. None of the twenty Storm Troopers there speak a single word.

When they touch ground and the doors open, Corin is swept along with the swarm of white armor and pulls his blaster to do his part.

It's just a battle. One of countless he's been in by now. Their opponents are scruffy looking souls with brave hearts and poor equipment, and Corin knows they will lose to the wrath of the Imperial War Machine. They don't stand a chance.

So he is utterly unprepared for the grenade that lands nearby him and the explosion that knocks him off his feet and slams him to the ground. His ears are ringing, his eye sight is blurry and he's struggling to breathe. For a moment, Corin is convinced he's hit and bleeding. His body is reporting aches everywhere and he wonders how bad it is.

A few seconds later, the ringing in his ears eases a little and that is when real horror strikes.

Someone is screaming and he recognizes that voice.

-

Rolling over to get up on all fours, pain forgotten, Corin is coughing and desperately scouting around for the source of the screaming. When he sees the downed Storm Trooper nearby, Corin scrambles over on his hands and knees. No, no, no...!

Drop keeps screaming, driven by raw agony, and Corin stares with mute horror at the damage done to his friend before his brain finally kicks into gear again.

“MEDIC!” Corin screams into his communication system. “I need a medic here! NOW!” He reaches out but his hands only hover helplessly over the twisted armor and ripped flesh. There is no medic who can fix this and he knows it.

Pulling off his own helmet, Drop throws it away and reaches out to grab a hold behind Corin's neck. His eyes are wide with fear and pain. “I don't want to die, Corin.” He chokes out, blood trailing from his mouth. “Please...”

“You're not going to die.” Corin lies, too scared to tell the truth. “You just need a medic.”

“I don't want to die.” Drop shudders and closes his eyes as a pained scream tears its way up his throat. “Please... You got to help me, please... I don't want to die...”

There is the sound of footsteps and Corin, hoping it is a medic, glances up to see Pat standing there. He seems paralyzed at the sight of the ruined Drop.  
Half a second after that, Dee appears next to Pat, but he quickly turns to yell for a medic as well.

Drop's fingers digs into Corin's skin as he jerks and screams until it turns into soft sobs. “I don't...” He looks at Corin with bleary, wistful eyes. “I don't want to die...”

Corin wants to reassure him again, but panic grips him when he realizes he can feel Drop's hold on him grow weak and his body is beginning to ease down. 

“Please...” Drop whispers, giving a faint shiver. “Help me...”  
His hand slides down from Corin's neck and Drop's eyes go distant as the light fades and is snuffed out.

Corin stares. He simply stares. His HUD reveals there are no life signs, but he still can't believe it.

Pat screams, a sound of rage and grief, while Dee is quiet. Too quiet.

The Empire wins that day, just as Corin predicted, but it just feels like a devastating loss. Corin has never felt this kind of loss before. He can't breathe under the weight of it.

They are forced to leave Drop's body behind as others would deal with the fallen ones and they are to report back to the ships. None of them speak. And when they come back to the base, they discover that Drop's things have already been removed and they are told a replacement will appear within a day or two.

A replacement? Corin feels a hysterical urge to laugh. No one can replace Drop!

Dee doesn't seem to react at all to this. He appears to be in a daze and merely retreats to his bunk, in full armor, and stares up at where the mattress should be sagging under Drop's weight.  
Pat sighs and crawls into bed with Dee. When Corin just stands there, staring, he waves him over.  
Corin hesitates, but when Pat waves a second time, he moves over and carefully climbs into the bed as well.

It takes almost two days before the first word is spoken, but it feels like the grief never leaves.

The replacement is some woman called Geena. She's probably nice, but they are too wrapped up their sorrow to get to know her and she's killed in the first battle they enter after Drop's death.

A part of Corin knows that Drop wouldn't want them to linger in grief, he'd be the first to make a bad joke about something to lighten the mood, but Corin can't help it. He misses him too much and the other two do too.  
They are a team, but they just lost their heart.

-

Geena's replacement is a skinny looking guy called Elsh. He barely spends time in the room, preferring to hang with his friends from the Academy, and that suits Corin just fine.  
Elsh survives his first battle, and the second and third and looks to be in it for the long haul.

After what happened with Drop, Corin and the other two are extra attentive and protective of each other on the battlefield. 

And for a while, it works.

Until the day comes when Dee is ordered onto a different ship. Corin's ship has two squad leaders, but the ship next to it has none, which is why Dee is told to take over there for the battle.

It feels like a bad omen and all three of them tense up with dread, but they also know there is no point in trying to argue. The decision is made and they have to obey.

“Be careful.” Pat pleads, his hand on Dee's shoulder.

Dee nods, looking from him to Corin. “Same goes for the both of you. Yeah?”

“See you down there.” Corin replies, trying to be brave and knowing his fear is probably painfully evident on his face.

Dee stares at them for a couple of seconds longer, then he puts his helmet on and walks away.

Corin swallows hard, telling himself he _will_ see him again.

“Come on, Kid.” Pat sighs. “Let's go.”

They put on their helmets as well and walk towards their ship. Stepping through the door, entering a small hallway between the cockpit and the troop compartment, Corin is repeating to himself, again and again, that they will see Dee again and he's going to be fine.

“Here.” Pat shoves him down on a seat right inside the door and settles next to him.

Corin glances over at him, sees him as tense and uncomfortable as he is himself. “He's going to be fine.”

Pat nods. “I hope so, Kid.”

Eventually they are ready for take off and Corin feels his stomach clench hard with anxiousness as the ship leaves ground and heads for space. What if he's wrong? What if he's never going to see Dee again? What if Dee too dies screaming, but alone?

Swallowing hard, Corin discretely reaches over and takes a hold of Pat's wrist, needing something to ground him before the dread takes over his brain. The feeling of Pat's hand placed gently over his helps.  
They are a team. They'll get through this.

Hours go by and Corin only knows they have entered the target planet's atmosphere when the ship begins to vibrate under the resistance of its atmosphere. The only transparisteel back in these compartments lead to the hallway which meant you had to rely on other ways to know what was happening outside the ship itself.

Corin is bracing himself for the noise and chaos that will greet them second the ramps lower for them and only reacts when Pat's fingers tighten around his. That is when Corin snaps out of his thoughts and frowns a little.  
Aren't things getting awfully choppy? The ship isn't just vibrating, it is shuddering and jerking.  
What is going on?

Pat gets up and yanks Corin to his feet. “Come.”

“What?” Corin stumbles as Pat shoves him towards the door to the small hallway to the cockpit and follows. “Pat, what is going on?” He nearly loses his balance when the ship jolts violently.

Several of the other Storm Troopers are getting to their feet with anxious voices.

Corin feels Pat give him yet another hard shove, his hand firmly against Corin's back, then the ship comes to an abrupt halt while Corin goes flying forward, through the door, and slams into the cockpit door. 

Everything goes black.

Pain brings Corin back. Pain and a strange hissing sound. Groaning, Corin tries to open his eyes, sees his HUD is functional against all odds, and he discovers he's lying on the floor in the small hallway between the cockpit and the troop compartment. He slowly gets a hand under himself and pushes himself up into a sitting position. 

Oh, his collarbone is broken again. He can feel it. Possibly his left arm too. There is blood in his mouth and his head is aching like crazy.

What had happened?

-

They had crashed. The side-door in the hallway is twisted open and reveals Storm Troopers fighting on some plains outside of the ship. Had they been shot down?  
Pat!  
Corin forgets all about pain and turns to stare at the door to the troop compartment, finding it shut, sealed by the safety barrier, and slightly bent.

Forcing himself up on his feet, Corin hobbles over to the door and looks in through the transparisteel. The ship's body is twisted. The ramp door is also sealed shut, an automatic safety measure to protect them from the vacuum of space, but is now sealing them in. He sees Storm Troopers scattered all over the front of the room and he scans one after another until he finds Pat.  
Relief hits him hard when the HUD picks up life signs.

Lifting his functional arm, Corin tries to open the door but finds it jammed. Pushing at the emergency button to open it does nothing. He hammers on the transparisteel. “PAT, WAKE UP!”

And against all odds, Pat does. Him and a couple of others.  
It takes Pat some time to get up on his feet and to be able to stand, but finally he stumbles towards the door. He reaches out and tries to open it, but he fails as well.

Corin looks around, scouting for something to help him break open the door, constantly swallowing back nausea and pain. He has to focus. He has to get Pat out of there.

Pat slams his shoulder against the door. Nothing. He does it again.

Corin picks up a metal pole and tries to jam it in the door, but it is too weak and bends at the first attempt.

Pat hammers his fist at the transparisteel.

“Yeah, I'll...” Corin swallows again, looking for something stronger. “I'll find something.”

The hammering on the transparisteel becomes frantic.

Suddenly the hair at the back of Corin's neck tremble and he looks over at the small opening to the troop compartment.

Flames. He can see flames.

“Pat!” Corin shouts, hurrying over and slamming his shoulder against the door as well, tries to get his fingers into the opening, ignores the pain of broken bones to get his friend out of there.

Pat's hammering on the transparisteel is beyond frantic now.

Corin looks up from his efforts just in time to see everything disappear in an inferno of flames.  
Pat's hand presses against the transparisteel one last time, his palm flat against the see-through surface, then it slides away and disappears.

Stumbling backwards until his back hits the door to the cockpit, Corin stares with raw horror.

He throws up.

With his helmet on, there is no place for the vomit to go except back into his mouth and into his nose as he automatically gulps for air. Choking, Corin tears his helmet off and throws it away, dropping to his hands and knees and throws up again.  
He throws up until he merely dry-heaves, then he crawls over to a corner and curls up there, shivering helplessly with tiny whimpers breaking free from time to time.

And the smell... The smell of burned flesh somehow seeps out into the hallway.

Corin has no idea how long he sits there. He thinks he's dreaming when he hears Dee's voice, but gentle hands cup his face and makes him focus and slowly Dee's helmet swims into focus.

“Corin! Are you okay?”

Corin stares at him. Is he okay? No. No, he's not okay. He'll never be okay again. He killed Pat.

As if he can sense his thoughts, Dee glances around. “Where is Pat?”

Slowly, struggling to make his body obey, Corin points at the door to the compartment.

Dee gets up and walks over to look through the transparisteel. A few seconds pass, he's probably using his helmet to scan the charred room, then Dee turns to lean heavily against the wall next to the door and sinks down to sit there. He pulls his helmet off, clutches his head in agonized grief, and he sobs out loud.

Corin turns his dazed stare back to the door, swallows and feels his raw throat object to the act. 

Pat had saved his life. He'd realized something was wrong and he had probably meant for them to aim for the emergency pods, but never got that far.  
And now his daughter would never get to know her father.

-

They are a duo. But they have lost their heart and their soul.  
Corin blames himself for Pat's death, but Dee doesn't blame him at all. It almost makes it worse.

By the time they get back to the base, Pat's things are gone. His replacement is already there. It's like he never existed.

But he did. Corin remembers. Dee remembers.

It takes no small amount of work and a mix of blackmail and begging, but Dee manages to persuade a lady at the accounting office to send half of his paycheck to Pat's wife and child, knowing how much they depend on the credits. When Corin finds out, he does the same.  
They are a duo. They stick together.

The new recruit is a woman going by the handle 'Racer', but all Corin sees is a stranger in Pat's bed. He tries not to keep it against her. It's not her fault. It's Corin's fault. She seems like a decent soul.  
Elsh and Racer are good fighters, the four of them work well as a squad, but the second they're off the battle-field, it is just Corin and Dee again.

It's hard to say which one of them have the most nightmares, but they try to help each other through it. They both know the other one is the only soul who understands.

The grief doesn't get any lighter. And they keep getting sent out to kill angry souls determined to break free from the Empire.  
An Empire that clearly does not care about how many it sacrifices it takes to keep its power.

Four months after Pat's death, there comes a note from accounting that the recipient of their credits can no longer be found at that address. No forwarding address is provided at the location.  
Corin tries, Dee tries, but neither of them can find out what happened to Pat's wife and child.

Two months after that, it is one year since Drop left them, screaming with agony and fear, and they spend the day hunkered down in a ditch with furious rebels firing everything they have at their battalion. Corin feels sick with relief when they both can walk away after without a scratch on them. Others aren't as lucky and the sound of their friends' grief makes Corin want to scream.

Him and Dee, they are a duo. They protect each other. They keep each other safe.

They get through some really rough fights and Dee is even awarded a medal of recognition for taking out an enemy transporter and saving who knew how many troop lives. Corin is proud to know him, even though the gray creeping into Dee's beard and the melancholy in his eyes makes Corin worry as well. He wonders how much Dee regrets joining the army...

At the Academy they had told them how they were going to protect innocent civilians and help planets prosper under the Empire. How glorious and noble it all had sounded. While Corin's father had chosen this path for him, hearing the words of the recruitment leaders made him almost grateful. Here he could actually make a difference, do some good and make his father proud of him.

Now Corin is struggling to see anything glorious or noble about the carnage of never-ending war. It is easy for the Generals and the Commanders to decide on an attack, but it is Corin and his friends that are suffering and dying.  
Corin ends up fighting with furious determination to kill as many rebels as possible, not to protect or honor the Empire, but to protect his friend and honor his missing friends.

Elsh is killed when they fight against the Corellian Resistance by one of the ship factories on the planet. Corin feels a light jab of sadness when he sees him go down after a blaster shot hits him directly in the throat and the HUD quickly declares there are no life signs.  
Corin's own blaster takes care of the culprit responsible for killing Elsh and turns to inform Dee of what had just happened, only to freeze and stare.

Dee is standing next to him, leaning his shoulder against a building, and has one hand pressed against the upper part of his stomach, where there is a hole in his armor and blood is leaking out. His hand trembles as he lifts it and looks at it. So much blood.

“Medic!” Corin shouts, instantly holstering his blaster and rushing over to Dee. “I need a medic. NOW!”  
Not him too. Not Dee. Please, no.

-

The Corellian resitance has managed to separate the battalion into two and is attacking them from the middle. Divide and conquer. But to Corin that means they are in the way of any medic getting to them. And time is ticking. That is a lot of blood....  
“Dee?” Corin quickly pulls out his first aid kit. He can't panic, as much as he wants to. He has to save him. He has to! “Talk to me.”

Dee lets out a grunt of pain when Corin starts to apply a pressure bandage. “I'm sorry.”

“Don't be sorry.” Corin tightens the bandage, hard, then straightens and then makes Dee place his arm around him to help him walk. “You're going to be fine.”

Dee makes another pained sound as he's made to walk, his legs quickly weakening and struggling to help him move, but he does his best.

They don't get very far before the Corellian resistance makes them duck down behind the burned-out remains of a transport vehicle. Corin lowers Dee down to sit and pulls his blaster to take out the closest threats.

“Corin...” Dee says, his voice strained. “How's it looking?” He reaches up and pulls off his helmet, leaning his head back against the metal surface and exhaling, probably to feel the cool air on his face. He's growing pale and a thin layer of sweat shines on his skin.

Corin has no idea what to reply. It's not looking good. He's bleeding too much and there are too many resistance fighters. “It's looking good.” His HUD locks on to what looks like a human man and he doesn't hesitate to shoot and kill. “Get your helmet back on. We have to move.”

Nodding, Dee obeys.

They don't get very far before they are forced to duck behind some rubble from a building and Corin fires shot after shot at the resistance fighters, hoping to either kill them all or scare them away. He activates his communication system, but blocks the outward sound so Dee won't hear. “I need a medic! Where is a kriffing medic?” His heart is beating so hard it hurts. 

The reply is as expected: Everyone is pinned down. The medics can't come to him, he has to get to them, on the other side of the resistance barricade. Despair tears through Corin and he has to clench his jaw to keep himself from screaming.  
Please. Please, please, please...  
He holsters his blaster, turns and drags Dee up on his feet again. “Come on.”

They try again, but it is becoming very obvious that Corin won't be able to punch through their lines on his own. He's going to have to go around. It is going to take a lot longer and be dangerous, but it is the only hope he has.

Soon Corin is dragging and carrying Dee more than merely supporting him as they make their way along the line and look for a way to move forward.  
A barrage of blaster shots forces Corin to lower Dee down to sit behind some cover so he can return fire.

“Corin, listen...” Dee says, barely audible through the noise of the battle. “It's okay. We tried.”

Shaking his head, Corin does not want to hear it. “You're going to be fine!” He shouts.  
When the danger passes, Corin pulls Dee back up and keeps his blaster in one hand to be ready if others tried to get in his way. “Come on.”

The next barrage not only forces them to take cover, but also back up to where they'd stopped previously. Frustration is making Corin take risks, standing and firing at the resistance fighters without thought for his own safety.  
A blaster shot bounces off his shoulder and knocks him down on one knee.

“You're a good kid, Corin.” Dee mumbles, completely unconcerned with the battle raging on around them. “We were always saying how lucky we were that you ended up with us. Don't let them kill you too. Don't give them that. You got to live. Stay alive.”

“We're both walking out of here. Together.” Corin pleads, moving closer and placing his hand on one of Dee's cuisses. He can't lose him. “Dee, please, just... just hang in there.” When there is no reply, he inches a little closer and uses his hand to give him a little shake. “Dee...?” Still no reply.

With trembling hands, unwilling to use the HUD, Corin takes a hold and carefully removes Dee's helmet to reveal his face one last time.

Dee's complexion is almost gray, his expression one of discomfort and fear, while his lifeless eyes stare at nothing.

He's gone.

-

For a long while, Corin just sits there. The grief is just too much. A part of him wants to scream, scream until he tastes blood, wants to tear the resistance fighters apart with his own two hands and then shoot every Imperial officer he sees. His eyes burn with unshed tears. His lips tremble.

The feelings build and build, he starts to shake and heave for air, the scream about to tear free... then, like a flick of a switch, Corin just goes numb.  
Completely and utterly numb.

It's like his brain just shuts down. His brain, his heart, everything. He sits there and he feels nothing.

His body tries to fight it, twitches once, twice, then he's numb.

Corin sits there, barely registering the sounds of the fighting going on, and he memorizes every inch of Dee's face while the battle rages on and more souls die.  
He doesn't care.  
Let them all die. Both sides. It doesn't matter to him.

When Corin becomes aware of the silence, the fighting has probably been over for a while. He delays for a few seconds more, can't take his eyes off Dee's face, then he picks up Dee's helmet and carefully puts it back on his friend. After that, Corin gets up and lifts Dee's body up over his shoulder and starts the walk back to where the ships will be waiting for the survivors.  
He's not leaving Dee behind.

It takes everything Corin has to let go when they want to bring the body to a different ship from the one carrying the living. He'll never see him again. It's like there is a void inside Corin's chest.

Back at the base, both Dee and Elsh's things are gone. Racer survived, but keeps quiet when Corin enters the room. Suddenly Corin can't stand the thought of someone else coming in to use Dee's bed, so he moves his things over and claims the bed for his own.

When the two replacements arrive the next day, they introduce themselves and Racer greets them with a tired smile and somber voice.  
Corin rolls over on the bed and turns his back on them and says nothing. He doesn't care. They're going to die anyway. Why bother learning their names. 

The numbness doesn't go away. Days go by, then weeks, suddenly it is months. He does what he's ordered to do, but he can't get himself to care anymore.

His father does not like the sight of him on his next visit. Corin knows he looks tired, he hasn't been sleeping much, he's exhausted but he can't sleep, and for one absolutely insane moment, he feels an intense need for his father to hug him. Just this once. He wants to lean his head on his father's strong shoulder and feel him embrace him. The longing is so strong it actually hurts.  
Yet Macero's eyes are filled with contempt and irritation, so Corin keeps his distance and tries to be better. 

He's alone. His team is gone.

When this woman Drop set him up with ages ago asks him out again, almost six months have passed since Dee's death and Corin wonders if maybe it can distract him for a little bit.  
It does, but he doesn't feel anything beyond a moment of physical relief. The same happens when a dark haired trooper flirts and he offers Corin whatever he wants. The second it is over, Corin loses interest and he never goes out with anyone more than once the few times he can be bothered.

He takes the memories he has of Drop, Pat and Dee and he buries them deep within himself.  
He can't think about them, it hurts too much. The scream still lingers in his throat. He can't.

Corin applies to become a Snow Trooper, figuring it will be easier to forget with a new armor and surrounded by lovely snow. He wants to forget. He becomes CT-113.

When the Death Star explodes, killing his father and uncle, CT-113 feels a stunned, detached grief. There is officially nothing left in the entire Galaxy that he cares about. 

But the army is all he knows, all he's good at, so CT-113 stays.  
Stay alive. Get paid. Find food. Hope luck is on your side. Nothing matters. Let it all burn.  
Because that is what this all about, isn't it? Pure, dumb luck. Good luck, bad luck. It's all random. There is nothing you can do, nothing is your fault, it's all about luck.

And time passes. Years go by. CT-113 doesn't care. He's alive and he gets paid.

Then comes the moment when his captain calls out that they have just shot down the wanted Mandalorian ship to crash-land on the ice planet they are currently patrolling. Moff Gideon has declared that a juicy paycheck is waiting for the ones who bring the bounty hunter and 'the asset' to him.  
“The target came down one click northwest from here.” The captain says as he joins them after they have landed, suited up and locked and loaded as well. “The ground is unstable, that's why I had to land here. Watch your step.”

“Affirmative.” CT-799 says, the smallest of them all, adjusting his battery pack on the snow-gear. “And the target? Do we bring it in alive?”

The captain doesn't hesitate. “We kill them both.”

CT-113 smirks and holsters his blaster rifle. Well, that certainly makes things a lot easier and there is nothing he likes more than easy money.


End file.
